Tune
May 14, 2014 § 1 Comment
the same song
every time, a familiar sound
pushing me swiftly through
a tunnel of light on runaway pavement
turning time into traveled miles
and wind, sharp and cold and alive
making hair dance and lifting
hands skyward, that same song
we played that nervous night
in the rain, I always hear it when
I see superheroes and blue dice
and parking lots at night, a road ahead
and stars
rosepoems 
Sweet rememberance.